


Apology, by Stanley Kowalski

by aerye



Category: due South
Genre: Early Work, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 22:30:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11171409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerye/pseuds/aerye
Summary: Kowalski apologizes. Vecchio accepts.





	Apology, by Stanley Kowalski

**Author's Note:**

> More stuff I found.
> 
> Thanks to china_shop, who held my hand last night while I panicked (don't ask me; it was over a decade ago) and gave me a prompt (discomfort), and to elementalv for masterful and heroic beta.

"You're going to have to talk to me sooner or later, y'know."  
  
Ray stared down into the scotch he was nursing. Apparently ignoring the bastard wasn't going to do any good. "Actually, no, I don't think I do, Kowalski. I don't think we have much of anything to say to each other anymore." He didn't want to hear Kowalski's explanations—or painful apologies—for the way things hadn't worked out between them.  
  
"Yeah?" He heard the rustle of clothing and saw Kowalski's jacket land on the bar, before he climbed onto the stool next to Ray and flagged the bartender. He ordered a beer, and out of the corner of his eye Ray could see him rolling up his sleeves.  
  
"You're still wearing the bracelet," he said, surprised, and then wished he could take back the words. He didn't want to have a conversation with Kowalski. He didn't have anything to say to Kowalski. He wanted Kowalski to go away and leave him alone, and let him go back to licking his wounds.  
  
"Yeah." Kowalski accepted the glass of draft from the bartender and took a long swallow before setting it down on a garish hotel coaster. "It was a gift from a guy I care about," he said.  
  
Ray laughed, a bitter, angry sort of laugh. "Pull the other one, Kowalski."  
  
"Look, I made a mistake," Kowalski said quietly.  
  
"Y'know? I got the message. Let's leave it at that, shall we?"  
  
"No, I mean—" Kowalski sighed. "I got scared, okay? I was still trying to figure things out, Vecchio. You were getting all serious and, okay, I freaked out—"  
  
"And ran in the other direction as fast as you could. But hey, I guess you landed on your feet." He tightened his jaw, then shook his head and took another drink. "Always said Fraser was a smart guy."  
  
"Fraser? Fraser and I aren't together," Kowalski said, sounding a little too amused, and Ray saw red.  
  
" _Jesus._ Do I look like I'm _dumb_ here, Kowalski? You're living with him. You came to Frannie’s wedding together.” Ray took another swallow of his drink. “Why don’t you just go back to the reception already?"   
  
"I'm _staying_ with him." Kowalski's eyes flashed. "Because my _boyfriend_ locked me out."  
  
"After you walked out," Ray threw back at him, raising his voice.  
  
" _I made a mistake_." Kowalski rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. "How many different ways do you want me to say it? I didn't know. I was stupid and everything was all messed up in my head. I didn't know what I was feeling. I was stupid and I made a mistake. But I _didn't know_."  
  
"Didn't know what?"   
  
"Didn't know—" And suddenly Kowalski was up, spinning Ray around on his barstool and shoving his knees apart to get in close to him, right up against him. He wrapped two fists in Ray's shirt, and yanked him forward. "Didn't know this," he whispered. And then he kissed Ray.  
  
It was—overwhelming. Savage. Ray didn’t want to respond, didn’t want Kowalski to know he could still go up in flames the moment the guy touched him — the pain of the last few weeks was still too bright, too sharp, too real — but he couldn’t stop himself. He wrapped his arms around him and fisted a hand in his hair, and met Kowalski's kiss with one of his own, diving into the soft, hot mouth that had haunted him, driving him crazy. Kowalski wasn't shy, pinning Ray back against the bar, and finally he had to shove him away, grabbing at the illusion of control. Ray glanced over his shoulder at the bartender, who immediately looked down, concentrating on the glasses he was washing.  
  
"Not here," he said breathlessly, looking away from Kowalski's burning eyes and bruised lips. He pulled a twenty from his money clip, tossing it on the counter with hands that were shaking. He grabbed his jacket and walked out of the bar, knowing Kowalski was right behind him, and made his way back to the lobby, where he asked for and got a room, conscious the entire time that Kowalski was so close he could feel his breath on the back of his neck.   
  
They had to share with elevator with some guy until the seventh floor, and Kowalski held his jacket in front of him to hide his hard on, shifting restlessly from foot to foot. The minute the guy got off and the doors closed behind him, Kowalski was on him, dropping the jacket and shoving him up against the wall, picking up where he'd left off in the bar. Ray let him, let Kowalski kiss him again and again, long kisses and short kisses, sharp kisses with teeth and slow kisses with plenty of tongue, all the way to the twenty-first floor when the elevator pinged again.   
  
He drew back to lean his forehead against Kowalski's. "So you're not with Fraser?" he demanded hoarsely, feeling stupid but needing to ask again, needing to be sure.  
  
Kowalski grinned. "I'm not with Fraser," he said, and then the elevator doors were closing on them and they had to move fast to get out before they wound up riding all the way down to the lobby again.  
  
The room was small. Ray barely had time to see that there was a bed before Kowalski had him down on it, kissing him again, and it was like there had been a knot tied around his heart, squeezing it tight and bloodless, and now that knot was gone. Ray felt free, full of pleasure, _drunk_ with pleasure, the blood pounding through his veins and carrying heat everywhere, and pooling in his belly and his dick. He felt like he could breath for the first time in days, and in between kisses he found himself laughing, chasing Kowalski's mouth for more.   
  
For his part, Kowalski seemed determined to remind himself how Ray tasted, every part of him—from his mouth and his face to his ears and his throat, and finally to his nipples, small and hard and jutting. Impatient with not being able to explore further, Kowalski settled back on his heels and pulled open Ray's shirt, and the rest of the studs went flying in all directions. They were expensive, eighteen carat, and Ray couldn't make himself care.  
  
"You drove me crazy," Kowalski muttered, face buried in Ray's belly. He buried his tongue in Ray's navel, and Ray caught his breath. "You wouldn't take my calls, you wouldn't talk to me—" He dragged himself back up over Ray, and fastened his lips to Ray's, tongued-fucking his mouth and swallowing whatever words Ray was going to offer up in his own defense. Ray finally gave up trying—what could he say except 'I thought you dumped me' and 'you broke my heart' and 'I was trying to learn to live without you, you son of a bitch'—things Kowalski already knew anyway and Ray couldn't imagine himself admitting out loud. Not yet. So he let Kowalski have the lead, let Kowalski kiss him and prod him and move him, spread him out across the bed. Ray moaned and the pleasure sliced through him when Kowalski palmed his dick through the fine cloth of his trousers, and suddenly it was hard to breathe again, all of his air burned up in the searing heat of Kowalski's touch.  
  
"Get naked," Kowalski gasped, biting Ray's lip and then licking the sting away. "I want to see you." Ray sat up, dizzy, and set clumsy fingers to work on his belt buckle, grinning when Kowalski gave up at the second button on his shirt and dragged it over his head, tie still hanging from the collar. Kowalski frowned and stood up, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his pants. His dick was hard, standing up straight from his groin, and Ray felt the heat ripple through him again when Kowalski noticed Ray watching, and with that goddamn look that said he knew everything Ray was thinking, reached down with his hand and stroked himself.  
  
Ray swallowed hard and wondered how he could ever have imagined living without this. He leaned back and shimmied quickly out of his own trousers, his boxers, his own cock curving up over his belly as it was released. Kowalski watched him, eyes darkened, and then he climbed back onto the bed, onto Ray, straddling his hips and leaning over him. Ray ran his hands down the sides of Kowalski's body, letting his fingers remember the feel of muscle and bone under skin. He traced the tattoo and tasted it with his mouth, and felt Kowalski shudder against him. They were a perfect fit, even with all of Kowalski's sharp angles, and their dicks pressed together and slid against each other in the building slickness between their bellies. Ray dragged Kowalski's mouth down to kiss him again and moaned as Kowalski started to move, thrusting hard against him. Ray rocked up, meeting his rhythm, and thought wildly that maybe with enough friction they would burst into flame.   
  
It was frantic, and messy. They were both breathing hard, fingers sliding in the sweat beading up on their arms and shoulders, and in between kisses they whispered urgently, things like _please_ and _there, right there_ and _now, god, now_. Ray caught his breath and arched up, again and again, chasing relief, every muscle tense with wanting. He brought his knees up around Kowalski's hips, clamping on tight, and he wanted—shit, he wanted everything. He wanted Kowalski to suck him and fuck him and _love_ him, and he didn't want him to move, _ever_ , and oh god, he needed him to _move, move, move_ —  
  
"Harder," he gasped, and heard Kowalski moan, a quick, soft, hot exhalation of air that curled inside his ear. His hands were captured—Kowalski grabbed them and held them down against the pillow—and Kowalski was staring down at him, eyes wide, panting through his open mouth. His hips were moving, driving into Ray's, and it was harder, and hotter, sweet and wild, and perfect, perfect, it was _perfect_ —  
  
Ray cried out and he closed his eyes, head falling back as he twisted his fingers around Kowalski's hands, digging in and holding on tight. He felt the heat pouring off of Kowalski, the frantic need, and it made him giddy to think all of this, all of Kowalski, was still his. His hips jerked and he shuddered, coming all over both of them, riding the pleasure as it tore through him. Shivering violently, he opened his eyes again to see Kowalski still staring down at him, his face flushed and damp and utterly triumphant, and he wrapped his arm around Kowalski's neck and pulled his face down to kiss him.


End file.
